Prince Caspian Telmarine
by Rosara
Summary: A not-so-short PARODY of the script of the Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. It's a sequel to our first, and warning: some of the jokes ARE on-going. Hope you enjoy, please r&r, most appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

The Chronicles of Narnia

Prince Caspian Telmarine

It's the middle of the night, in some faraway country and up the top of some faraway tower. It is dark, signifying that the habitants of this faraway place, the Telmarines, are bad. They are also having babies. Loudly.

MAMA TELMARINE: I'm having a bebbeeeeee!

MIDWIFE TELMARINE: It's a boy!

MAMA TELMARINE: Let me check.

MIDWIFE TELMARINE: It seriously is a boy.

MAMA TELMARINE: Gimme my kid! I'm the Queen, dammit. Well, I will be the Queen just as soon as my hubby does his job.

MIRAZ TELMARINE: No wuckers, presh. On my way now.

MIRAZ sends roughly 400 troops armed to the TEETH to kill PRINCE CASPIAN TELMARINE X. He is sleeping peacefully in his bed but then a HAND comes out of nowhere to STRANGLE him DEAD! Oh, and he has a lovely chin dimple. Just thought I might add that.

LEONARDO TELMARINE: I'm actually called Cornelius.

US: Close enough, Gandalf.

GANDALF TELMARINE: _sigh _Anyway. Erm, where was I? Oh yeah, Caspian, son, Miraz has sent like 400 troops armed to the TEETH to come and kill you dead. You might wanna get going.

PRINCE CASPIAN: Is okay, I'll just 'ide in zhe closet and vatch.

THE AUDIENCE: Why in God's name does he have such a retarded accent?

GANDALF TELMARINE: It differentiates him from the Narnians. Which needs doing seeing as he obviously looks a fair bit like the centaurs and fauns and stuff. _coughs _Anyway, Caspian m'lad, suit yourself.

Like, 400 troops armed to the TEETH come in very discreetly to assassinate ONE SLEEPING KID. It's good that they didn't make it obvious or anything, because then the Lords and Stewards of GONDOR may have wondered what was going on.

The troops let fly THOUSANDS of arrows into the bed, designed to kill ONE SLEEPING KID. When they are finished, they wonder why they can't see a body, let alone a bed.

PRINCE CASPIAN: Golly moses.

CASPIAN doesn't show an OUNCE of surprise, or acting skill. But at least he looks hot. Really hot. He finally RUNS AWAY because he realises that the troops want to kill him.

BUT…

CASPIAN takes a pony and runs out the FRONT DOOR so that the 400 troops armed to the TEETH see him and chase after him because they want to kill him dead. He even stops obligingly so that they can catch up and make the chase more exciting for the shrieking 2-year-olds in the audience.

What proceeds is a great big middle-finger-salute at Peter Jackson from Andrew Adamson. But if most of the locations call to mind various Lord of the Rings settings, you're totally WRONG, because it actually wasn't filmed in New Zealand, thank you very much. Some was actually filmed elsewhere. CASPIAN keeps riding for a BLOODY LONG TIME. Just to show you, again, how lovely New Zealand would be for your next holiday, if you haven't already booked yourself up on all the Lord of the Rings tours. No that any of it was filmed in New Zealand.

CASPIAN still keeps riding, until he very ludicrously runs into a TREE. Why do all horse chases always end with retards hitting tree branches? CASPIAN lies in the dirt faking a broken head until FREAKY NARNIAN GREMLINS come out of another tree and start trying to knife him. Then he gets up and blows the HORN OF QUEEN SUSAN, because he is in dire circumstances, with a knocked head and a three-foot-high fiend waving a needle at him. Then he's KNOCKED OUT properly.

MEANWHILE… BACK IN LONDON, ENGLAND…

DEMENTED VERSION OF PETER: Hello, Phyllis. I don't have an icicle's chance in hell, do I?

SUSAN: I could do so much better than you in Narnia. They have really hot… um, fauns and centaurs... in Narnia.

DEMENTED VERSION OF PETER: Well, that hurts my feelings.

SUSAN: It's not my fault you're ugly. Really Ugly.

DEMENTED VERSION OF PETER: _lowers head_

LUCY runs up. She's so not as ugly as she used to be, because her teeth aren't as large and she's wearing pigtails. This immediately makes her more likeable, because we like looking at good-looking people onscreen, not ugly ones, hence the immediate vacating of DEMENTED VERSION OF PETER. LUCY and SUSAN walk to the LUN-derground where Peter is having a biff with one of his cobbers. This is done to show that PETER is a maladjusted member of society and is having trouble letting go of his glory days as HIGH KING OF NARNIA. Now he's out to teach a lesson to plebby London schoolbrats who show no respect for the likes of him.

PETER: I'll teach a lesson to you plebby London schoolbrats who show no respect for the likes of me!

PETER proceeds to get his royal arse kicked. He must be a little out of touch with his glory days. EDMUND THE EMO joins the fight because he is really good, hard-arsed backup for anyone. However, he turns out to be as pitiful and whiny as his brother. It's all fun and games until someone loses a head, and that's what almost happens to PETER, because the plebby schoolbrats shove his head onto the traintracks. Sucks to be the Pevensies.

BUT Soldiers come and save the weak bastards from being killed dead by a few whimpy schoolboys, and all is well except for PETER'S EGO.

EDMUND: Did you see me go, I was on fire just then.

PETER: What the hell did you do that for? I had everything under control, I'm the High King of Narnia dammit. I had a strategy going, they were right where I wanted them.

EDMUND: With your head in the traintracks?

PETER: Damn straight with my head in the traintracks. That was the plan.

EDMUND: You're just jealous because I outdid you.

LUCY: _is crying…almost. PETER comes over to comfort her_

PETER: I'm sorry you had to see that precious, just bloody schoolboys, no respect for the Kings and Queens of Narnia. Just taught them the old "Don't mess with the HIGH King of Narnia" lesson. Put them in their place.

LUCY: Yeah, you sure showed them.

SUSAN: Here's where I express my discontent with society, and Narnia too for that matter. I hate London boys because they're ugly. And I hate Narnians because they won't let us come back. And I hate you two stupid boys because you lost the fight and now we look like losers. And I hate the baby because she's not a baby anymore and will probably be better looking than me in a few year's time. Life's a bitch.

EDMUND: Yeah, I wouldn't mind going back to Narnia to regain my brilliant archery skills and all. They were really worth keeping.

SUSAN: Well, I was obviously the best. None of _you_ could shoot an orc at 500 yards or blow a horn as well as yours truly. Why, I bet none of you remember anything at all about battle formations, sword handling, knife throwing, baby protecting, uruk-hai killing or anything from the old Narnian days. Wow, why am I turning this movie into 'The Chronicles of Susan'?

LUCY: Because you're setting yourself up for a fall, but no one will know that until the end of all seven movies. Pretend you didn't hear that, people.

SUSAN: Keep your wise-ass bullshit to yourself, thanks Lucy.

PETER: How dare you speak to the baby with such disrespect! As HIGH KING of Narnia, I shan't stand for it. _Turns to Lucy_ Don't listen to her Loo, she's just a mean bitch. And she still doesn't appreciate all you did for us in the last film….um I mean the last time we visited Narnia.

EDMUND: Hey, can you guys hear that, it fully sounds like magic.

SUSAN: _SOUNDS_ LIKE MAGIC??... WTF?

LUCY: I can feel it too, Ed. And its nice to know you don't have a BAD ATTITUDE like you did last time around.

EDMUND: Yeah, but me being a nice person in this movie also means that I have no personality and no screen time. No one wants me without my BAD ATTITUDE.

PETER: I might be able to recycle the BAD ATTITUDE situation personally, so never fear.

The TRAIN STATION starts to disintegrate and go feral; walls fall apart, bricks fly, shit hits the fan. The PEVENSIE BRATS are a bit blown around as the people around them blur, fragment, vanish, dissolve etc.

PETER: Lucy… what exactly is going on? Last time it was just a short trot through a cupboard. Now we're in the midst of some kind of nuclear holocaust.

LUCY: It does seem a little different, doesn't it?


	2. Chapter 2

Then the Pevensies are in NARNIA…..PRAISE BE TO JESUS…. I SAID PRAISE BE THE L-ORD. They are on a beach called The Bay of Narnian Lovers, and it's sunny, so being the Vitamin D-deprived Britons that they are, they take their kit off and go for a swim.

SUSAN: This _is_ Narnia, right? Only I don't remember the swimming bit.

EDMUND: Or the sunshine bit.

LUCY: Of course we're in Narnia! Look, there's the sea, and the caves and the ruins and the… actually, good point, where the puck are we?

SUSAN: Wait up, if you look at these thousand-year-old ruins from a certain angle and in a certain slant of light and have an extremely good imagination, you could almost think that perhaps it could have been our coronation room.

EDMUND: Yeah… I feel that.

PETER: Bullshit, Susan. I think I'd know if this was MY castle. I am HIGH King of this place, dammit.

LUCY: My chin's getting wobbly.

EDMUND: This way, troops. I remembered my torch, lucky for us, and I'm feeling that this is the way to our secret bomb shelter that conveniently outlived the rest of the castle. Oh, and what do you know? Here's our effects!

SUSAN: Funny how this hasn't been trashed along with the rest of the place.

PETER: Out of my way, Anduril's in that chest.

LUCY: My cordial's here, un-smashed and un-fungal. After 1,000 years, how handy.

SUSAN: My bow! Wow, the wood's still good, too.

PETER: ANDURIL! Fecking sweet as, where's an orc?

EDMUND: My…..! Erm, yeah nah, nothing.

PETER: Well Ed, you can only blame yourself. If you hadn't been such a SHIT, you would have gotten a cool sword called Anduril from Father Christmas too.

EDMUND: You told me that before.

PETER: Well, it bears repeating. Now, shall we be on our way? There are dwarves to find and orcs to kill. TO WAR!

MEANWHILE… CASPIAN is in a treehouse. Or under a treehouse, whatever. There is a bandage around his head that has a bloodpatch on the forehead from the tree debacle. He takes it off and surprisingly, he's already healed. Not a scratch. He is still wearing his bedclothes and is a bit sweaty and is pretty much BLOODY HOT again. There are DWARVES AND STUFF in the treehouse with him. They are debating whether to kill him or not. Threatened AGAIN by the three-foot-high fiends, Caspian goes straight for his sword.

CASPIAN: 'OW VERY DARE YOU! I just 'appen to be PRINCE BEN CASPIAN TELMARINE X, so take zat vith you to 'ell, you leetle shits.

BADGER: Holy shit. Anyone would think we were armed. And ten-foot-high. And human.

CASPIAN: Yes vell, you did not 'ave 400 Telmarine troops armed to ze TEETH and shooting up your arse, now, did you?

BADGER: Only all our lives, dickhead.

CASPIAN: 'All our lives' - vot is ZAT zupposed to mean?

BADGER: Take a good look, genius.

CASPIAN: My god. You're a badger. And you're living in a treehouse. And talking. Are you Narnian?

RUMPELSTILTSKIN: Damn straight.

CASPIAN: ZHEY'RE EVERYVHERE! Shit, you're a really ugly vun.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN: Damn straight.

CASPIAN: Bit of backstory: I'm Telmarine royalty. My uncle vants me dead. I'm on ze run. I 'ave no aim in life. Feel sorry for me, pleez.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN: Or we could try to kill you. Or use you as a bargaining chip.

CASPIAN: Good point.

BADGER: But we won't, because you're a top bloke and you want to help us, right?

CASPIAN: 'elp who?

BADGER: The Narnians.

CASPIAN: Oh yeah. I knew I 'ad some purpose in zis movie apart from looking damn good. Zhere it is. Liberator of all Narnians. Uh, before I become zuch, I'll just go out and… sharpen my sword.

CASPIAN does a RUNNER.

MEANWHILE… The PEVENSIES have found elvish clothing and are looking pretty swish, though SUSAN's mulberry number is a little drab with her complexion. PETER is thinking he's all broad-shouldered High King Hunkness, while Edmund just looks Emo and pasty and not all that well developed. LUCY looks happy again and not very ugly.

SUDDENLY they see a boat in the water, where a RANGA DWARF is being sat on. SUSAN runs up with her bow at the ready.

SUSAN: Drop the Ranga Dwarf right now!

THEY DO. But despite their compliance, SUSAN shoots them all anyway, and gets every one because she is a dead-eye dick.

PETER proceeds to have an entirely superfluous underwater scene that enables him to look brave and get wet and show his nipplefreeze.

UNHAPPY RANGA DWARF: I'm a grouch. And my name's Trumpkin.

PETER: I'll do the introductions, shall I? This is Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and I'm High King Peter the Magnificent. Don't forget the Magnificent part.

TRUMPKIN: I'm going to need identification papers and passports and driver's licenses, plskthnx. You plebs are like twelve. Sure, you might be the only humans in the whole of Narnia, but a ranga dwarf can't be too careful.

PETER: Excuse me, dwarf? _Twelve_?? I'll have you know I'm basically an adult here. Yes, the others look like children. But not _me_. I'm High King Peter the Magnificent here. Total hunk, leader of Narnians, warrior extraordinaire, sword-fighter proficient. Get it bloody right before you start throwing insults about, you fugly ranga dwarf.

TRUMPKIN: _is thinking _Mmmmm. Sword-fighter proficient, you say? Now there's a foolproof way to prove your kingshipness. A swordfight! If you beat me, you'll certainly be High Royalty, because no one else in the whole wide world could beat a little ranga dwarf in a sword fight.

PETER: Sounds grouse. Edmund, you do the honours.

EDMUND: _Me? _But in the last film, _you_ were the expert swordfighter. All I did was hang with the archers and get stabbed by the White Witch. As if I'm good at sword fighting.

PETER: Yeah, well, I'm High King and if I say fight the ranga dwarf, then fight the ranga dwarf, dammit.

EDMUND: I don't have enough personality to really contest this any more. _to Trumpkin _So um, yeah sure, take a swing, little man.

EDMUND and TRUMPKIN have some fully MORTAL COMBAT. Except that as soon as one of them gets a little cut on the hand, they stop. It is TRUMPKIN who cops the cut. So the PEVENSIE BRATS have WON! What an amazing victory!

PETER: What did I tell you, you doubting Narnian freak? OF COURSE we're royalty.

TRUMPKIN: Well, you've sure won me over. That display of Kingly sword mastery has left me without a shadow of a doubt. ALL HAIL NARNIA'S VINTAGE MONARCHS!

PETER: About bloody time.

SUSAN: Peter, why are you suddenly an arrogant tool with a BAD ATTITUDE?

PETER: Just getting ready for my man-angst war with Caspian. Don't know how, but I can already tell that he and I just won't get along.

LUCY: _has a quick scuffle with a bear _That bear tried to eat me. Why on earth would a _bear _try to eat me? It's not even like they're carnivorous.

PETER: Yeah, that's weird.

TRUMPKIN: When people treat shit like wild animals, they become wild animals. Or something. Moving on.

The PEVENSIE BRATS PLUS TRUMPKIN walk and boat their way through most of the LORD OF THE RINGS locations. They reach a ravine with a big angry river beneath them. LUCY sees ASLAN, but we don't.

LUCY: ASLAN!

SUSAN: As IF I'd believe _you_. It's not like you've ever been right before in similar situations when I should have shown faith in you but didn't. And it's not like I don't have a damn good reason to think Aslan wouldn't be here. In Narnia. Because I do. I'm just not gonna tell you it.

PETER: I'm bored. On we go, troops.

MEANWHILE… CASPIAN is walking through suspiciously New Zealand-esque ferns. There are rustles behind him because he is not alone.

CASPIAN: I _do_ know zat you're zhere, Badger and ugly vun. I'm just choosing to ignore you because I 'ave no backbone and I vant to look conflicted right now.

BADGER: Conflicted over what? You don't exactly have a lot of options.

CASPIAN: 'OW VERY DARE YOU! I alvays 'ave options! I could option your black-and-vhite arse vith zis sword if you vant me to show you _options_!

BADGER: But by and large, you're either worthless in a Narnian forest, or you're dead with the Telmarines. Am I right?

CASPIAN: Shit. Zat narrows down my options a leetle bit. Oh, vhich should I pick? Alive or dead? ZE DECISIONS I 'AVE TO MAKE AS KING!

The decision is made for him when roughly 400 Telmarine troops armed to the TEETH start shooting SHITLOADS of arrows at him. He runs, which exhibits that Option 1 has been the pick of the two. CASPIAN basically keeps running because he is pretty whimpy, though still a damn good perve. He has very nice dark brown eyes. Anyway, A SNAKE-LIKE PHANTOM in the undergrowth is quickly subtracting the numbers, so that by the time it reaches CASPIAN, there are no troops left.

EDDIE IZZARD'S VOICE: _is totally miscast for the voice of Reepicheep_

REEPICHEEP: Ta-da! I'm a Narnian too, and I'll be your sorely unwanted comic relief! I'm here to lead you to the Head of the Narnian Secret Service. Come along, your Kingship.

It is suddenly DARK, and all manner of FREAKY NARNIAN GREMLINS that look like they should be on the bad side, but aren't, are gathered around a clearing looking menacing despite the fact that CASPIAN is there to help, possibly. You'd think it wouldn't really give CASPIAN much incentive to want to fight for them.

LEUTENANT CENTURION #1: So we could kill you, because you are Telmarine…

LEUTENANT CENTURION #2: …Or we could spare you, if you help us.

CASPIAN: Right, so you basically just vant me to be ze excuse for you to go to var?

LEUTENANT CENTURION #2: Yeah. Think of yourself as the window dressing. The advertising campaign, the Poster Boy.

CASPIAN: I like zat. Do I get to do a centerfold? Possibly nude?

LEUTENANT CENTURION #2: Um, no. You'll just be the _face_ of The Narnian Resistance. That kind of thing.

CASPIAN: Ze face? I'll be ze _'ead_, don't you mean? I vill _lead_ you.

LEUTENANT CENTURION #1: If the mood takes you, I suppose.

CASPIAN: Gosh. Now I'll 'ave to muster up a leetle bit of acting skill, so people may believe zat I actually care about zis cause. And zat I'm not just doing it because Option 2 didn't vork out.

A/N 1: Yes, this chapter has been changed for the benefit of Storms-Are-My-Nature. To be honest, we'd sort of completely forgotten that whole Edmund and Trumpkin fight scene. It was kinda small in the movie. But anyway, I hope you enjoy the addition.

A/N 2: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed our story/s! It really does mean a lot to know how your story is received and whether or not it's working. A couple of people have stated that they had some favourite lines – if so, please post them up! We'd love to know which parts work for you and which don't. It will help us improve. So thanks everyone, and hopefully the chapters will keep rolling in regularly.


	3. Chapter 3

MEANWHILE… The PEVENSIE BRATS rock up at decidedly the WRONG location, being that TELMARINES are killing each other and chopping down non-talking trees and building things with them. They come to the conclusion that perhaps LUCY was right after all.

LUCY: Durr fred.

They follow LUCY'S lead despite SUSAN'S grumbling. They camp at nighttime, build a little fire and then lie down for 40 winks, without blankets. SUSAN is bothered.

SUSAN: Why does Aslan _hate_ me?

LUCY: Probably because you're suddenly a petulant emo. And hormonal. And you've unexpectedly taken to wearing thick black eyeliner.

SUSAN: Excuse me?

LUCY: Yeah, I don't recall reading that part in the book, either.

LUCY has a dream-thing, where she meets ASLAN. He tells her basically nothing except that things are always different the second time around, which is really useful advice and all. When LUCY wakes up, she goes through the same routine, but instead of meeting ASLAN, she meets a few hairy pig-dogs and PRINCE BEN CASPIAN TELMARINE X.

PETER: CHAAAAARGE!

CASPIAN: TALLY-HOOOOOOOO!

They FIGHT because they can. Finally, after CASPIAN exhibits just how crap he is with a sword, and therefore how less worthy he is than PETER, they stop. PETER holds up his sword next to CASPIAN's, which is embedded in a treetrunk. He is comparing sizes.

PETER: Thank God. I knew mine would be bigger.

CASPIAN: Mine 'as a much larger 'ilt, and far more ornamentation.

PETER: Yeah, but it in the end it always comes back to the size.

CASPIAN: Zat is ridiculous, it's vot you _do _vith it zat counts.

PETER: Which is why yours is stuck in a tree?

C.S. LEWIS FANS: I strangely don't recall reading this rivalry thing in the book.

CASPIAN: Excuse me, but _vhy_ exactly are ve fighting? I mean, vhy vould you come up to a random dude in ze forest and start 'acking at 'im vith your sword anyvay?

PETER: _incensed _Oh, don't you play the innocent with me, you fiendish charlatan! You damn well know why!

CASPIAN: I do?

PETER: _sighs _Must I spell out EVERYTHING? _sighs again _It's all to do with lawn-mowers. See, I'm feeling slightly possessive right now because you're pretty much lawn-mowing every bit of grass I ever owned. One – my Kingshipness. Two – my Alpha Male status. Three – my lady-friendly good looks. Four – my sibling's belongings. Five – my arse-kicking Narnian army. Six – my…

CASPIAN gives SUSAN the old once-or-twice-over treatment.

PETER: _Six _– my sister.

CASPIAN: She vos looking at _me_.

PETER: She was not.

SUSAN: Actually, I was. I mean, look at him. He might still be wearing his nightie and have Hanson-brother hair, and have his sword embedded in a tree trunk, but look at that chin dimple, and those deep brown eyes and…

CASPIAN: …ze prettier sword?

PETER: Somehow I just knew you'd be a dick, Caspian. _glares_

SUSAN: At least I'm not related to him.

PETER: You don't know that for sure. Remember, you were going to marry a Telmarine at one stage when we were in Narnia last. With some pretty extenuating circumstances, he could technically be your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson. Now that's sick.

CASPIAN: _still eyeing up the fair maiden _Mezhinks I don't particularly care.

SUSAN: _This _is why Narnia is better than London. I KNEWthere was a reason!

C.S. LEWIS FANS: I strangely don't recall reading this romance thing in the book.

EDMUND: So now that you two big men have finished comparing sword-lengths, how about we move the plot along a bit? You know, barricade ourselves in at Helm's Deep and such.

CASPIAN: Smart boy.

PETER: _turns to Caspian _You need some help getting that little sword of yours out of the treetrunk?

CASPIAN: _grumbles some Spanish swearwords as he extricates his own sword from the tree_

The whole motley crew go to an underground Helm's Deep which is suddenly battle-ready. It's like an orc-killing workshop where Narnians are making more crowssbows and swords and bombs and torpedoes and bows and arrows and uruk hais.

PETER: _to Caspian _So, this yours, is it?

CASPIAN: You 'ave a problem vith zat?

PETER: No no, it's just not as impressive as I thought it might be, judging from your bragging on the way over. Pretty small, really. You should have seen mine back in the day. Now that was what you'd call large-scale.

CASPIAN: Susan, vot do you zhink? Battle ready and bigger zan vot Peter 'ad?

SUSAN: _winks at Caspian_ Oh, it's definitely bigger. Darker, and deeper too.

PETER: Susan, we had the bloody Rohan PLAINS for feck's sake! How is this piece-of-shit barricade anywhere NEAR that scale?? And are there any silken tents here? _I_ don't see any silken tents.

CASPIAN: Who needs silken tents inside a tomb?

PETER: We're in a tomb?

SUSAN: Well, _obviously_, Peter. _rolls her eyes for Caspian's benefit_

LUCY: OMG its Tumnus Creepius!

EDMUND: No, that's not him, you dingbrain child, its just a random faun with the same squashed red nose. Tumnus Creepius has been dead for a thousand years. He was always too old for you Luce, but a thousand years is a bit much. Bit of a creep too, never liked him to be honest.

LUCY: Tumnus Creepius WAAAAAAAHHH!!

They walk down a passageway that looks a lot like the other passageways they've already walked down. However, after a bit, they find finger-paintings of themselves as adults on the wall. Logically, paintings on the wall of a tomb would signify that this place should have been where the PEVENSIES would have been buried, had they died in Narnia. However, this interesting plot point is not even acknowledged, let alone developed. Instead, they just stare in open-mouthed amazement at the crappy likeness.

EDMUND: _sighs _That painting was done back when I was hot. Back when I had masculinity. Remember that golden age?

PETER: I'd prefer not to. I had some pretty disturbing facial hair back then.

SUSAN: My bum looks huge in my painting. Someone rub it off, how embarrassing.

CASPIAN: I don't know, Susan. I zhink it's a bit of a turn-on.

SUSAN: Really? Keep it on, then.

They continue down the passageway until they come to a GREAT BIG CAVE that is in darkness. CASPIAN lights up a strategically-placed semi-circle of kerosene to bring light to the proceedings. The PEVENSIES stare around themselves but don't really get it.

PETER: Surely there's some reason Caspian is showing us this place.

LUCY: Yeah… like, because of the sweet carving of the lion on the wall?

EDMUND: Or the unconventional and mildly innovative lighting arrangement?

SUSAN: Or is it just to show of his chin-dimple in fetching candlelight?

CASPIAN: God, you Pevensies are retarded, Susan excepted. Look at ze big cracked stone zhing in the middle of ze cave for a clue.

LUCY: It's… cracked… and it's stone…

PETER: Look, what exactly are you getting at here, Caspian?

CASPIAN: For ze love of God. It's ze Stone Table!

LUCY: I see… sort of.

SUSAN: Yeah… it's like… stone, I guess. And roughly table-sized.

LUCY: Only problem being that it's in a tomb, underground.

CASPIAN: Point?

PETER: Well, Prince Toss-Pot, if you'd been around back in the GOLDEN AGE, when some people actually did their job and RULED this place, you'd have known that the stone table was OUTSIDE, up a hill, under the sweet blue sky.

CASPIAN: I don't understand ze confusion.

PETER: You wouldn't. Oh, and there's also some kind of foreign stone henge addition here. Thought you'd redecorate, Caspian? Our old ways not good enough for you?

CASPIAN: I vould say zat zis must 'ave been built after your time, zen.

PETER: Oh, you can come up with as many excuses as you want, Caspian. I'm sick of your bullshit, that's all I damn well know.

CASPIAN: You're ze vun who abandoned us in our time of great need!

PETER: Where the feck does 'us' come into it, Telmarine Bastard?

EDMUND: Back up a little here. So this is definitely THE stone table, am I correct? _Caspian nods_ Well, if that's the case, and it has some kind of significance, why are _you _showing us, Caspian? I wasn't aware you cared.

CASPIAN: Neither vos I. Smart boy.

SUSAN: Moving on to how exactly we can wipe out Caspian's race - anyone got any good battle strategies?

PETER: How about attack? I mean, fat lot of good we can do here, moulding in a tomb and waiting to get starved out, at which point we'll have to eat the fauns.

CASPIAN: It is ze best course of action. Stay 'ere and rot. At least ve von't be labeled as brave or anyzing.

EDMUND: Yeah, god forbid that.

PETER: Well, Caspian, you might think you're some kind of leader of Narnians or whatever, but these freaks come under MY rule as High King of this place, dammit. And I say ATTACK.

CASPIAN: 'ave you seen Miraz's city? It looks exactly like Orthanc, vithout ze surrounding earth and vithout ze 50-foot-high Ents. It's impregnable!

PETER: We have flying lion-eagle things.

CASPIAN: Let's put zis to a vote. Susan, who's plan is better?

SUSAN: Well, yours is, naturally. It involves hiding down here and getting lost in lots of long, dark, private tunnels. I could live with that.

PETER: That settles it. Bring me my flying lion-eagles.


	4. Chapter 4

AND SO… it is PETER's plan that is put into effect. And it sure does seem like a good plan, being that about five people get chauffeur-flown into the city on lion-eagle things and are then dropped off to dong a few guards on the head. OUTSIDE, a FAIR FEW FUGLY NARNIANS wait with swords at the ready, to be let in to the city.

C.S. Lewis Fans: I strangely don't recall reading this fight part in the books.

ANDREW ADAMSON: Well, thus us the sicond muddle-funger salute to Peter Jeckson. I mean, City of Gondor who? Thus is way more hardcore. It took us sux months to shoot, und twinty-five more computers. We even made T-shurts and beanies seying "I SURVIVED THE TELMARINE CITY RAID THING SHOOT: SO HA HA PETER JECKSON".

He holds up a big black lettered T-shirt proudly.

ANDREW ADAMSON: But I'll let you git beck to the movie now. It's a good but, thus. We made it up oursilves.

EVERYONE ELSE: We can tell.

EDMUND: _dongs a few guards on the head with his trusty torch and then hides. Brilliant strategy_

PETER: I'm not exactly sure what my role is in this assault, but I'm sure as hell gonna stay in front of the army and hog the screen time and exhibit how much larger my sword is than Caspian's.

CASPIAN: See you tosspots later. I'm off to save Gandalf Telmarine.

SUSAN: Coming!

They reach the JAIL where GANDALF TELMARINE is lying in a cell looking DEAD, but isn't. CASPIAN dongs a few guards on the head and lets him out. Another brilliant strategy.

GANDALF TELMARINE: Why do people like me always ask the hero why they came back to save my worthless arse? Have I no self-respect?

PETER: Did I just hear some bullshit about Caspian being the _hero_? I don't fecking think so! _He rushes to the jail_

GANDALF TELMARINE: By the way, Caspian, just to calm you down a bit, thought you might like to know that MIRAZ TELMARINE did your Dad in. Don't lose sleep over it.

CASPIAN: 'OW VERY DARE HE! _charges off in a murderous rage to kill ONE SLEEPING MAN_

GANDALF TELMARINE: And here I was thinking that information would diffuse the situation.

PETER comes charging into the JAIL…

PETER: _to Gandalf Telmarine_ Where's that mofo gone? He's due a duell for that bullshit about him being the hero of this film.

GANDALF TELMERINE: He's gone to murder his sleeping uncle in cold blood.

PETER: Thought he'd hide behind his old uncle, did he? Well, your uncle won't save you now, Caspian! AWAY, HORSE!

MEANWHILE… TRUMPKIN and REEPICHEEP have teamed up because they are both as ridiculous and badly-written as one another. They are sort of trying to get the bridge down and mote down and the grate up and the boom gate up and whatever else this retarded city of Orthanc/Gondor has for its defences.

TRUMPKIN: I'm really short.

REEPICHEEP: Oh, the irony of that statement!

They BOTH stare at the audience, waiting for them to laugh. They DON'T.

MEANWHILE… CASPIAN has reached the bedchamber of his SLEEPING UNCLE MIRAZ TELMARINE. He obligingly waits for him and his wife to wake up and have breakfast before he threatens them.

MIRAZ TELMARINE: Oh, not to worry, it's just the pretty boy. I was wondering how long it would take for him to show up again.

CASPIAN: Vot is all zis shit about YOU doing in my farja?

MIRAZ TELMARINE: Your what?

CASPIAN: MY FARJA!

MIRAZ TELMARINE: Oh, that. Well… So?

CASPIAN: Vhy vould you kill my flesh and blood? You 'ad absolutely NO motive to do so. I alvays looked up to you, I loved you like a farja, I trusted you, you MAN-BULLY!

MIRAZ TELMARINE: Stop bullshitting, Caspian, you know as well as I that you couldn't stand me and I hated your guts. And funnily enough, you were supposed to be aware of this info BEFORE you upped stumps and left to join those freaky Narnian gremlins. How much more can they get wrong in this movie?

CASPIAN: Vot does it matter anyvays? I'm going to shoot you vunce and for all and zat freaky vife of yours.

PETER: TALLY-HOOOOOOOO!

CASPIAN: Zat's _my_ goddamn line.

PETER: So, give me an update… who's killing who here?

CASPIAN: Vell, I 'ave my veapon trained on my evil uncle over 'ere. 'Is freaky vife 'as a veapon trained on me. You 'ave a veapon trained on both of us. Oh, and now Susan 'as 'er veapon trained on you. Because you 'ave your veapon trained on me.

PETER: I'm really stuck for choices. Which arsehole should I kill? There are too many in one room.

CASPIAN: Vell, I'm going for my evil uncle. 'e killed my farja after all.

MAMA TELMARINE: _lets fly an arrow into Caspian's rather attractive body_

MIRAZ: See you dipshits later! _does a RUNNER, leaving his wife and kid behind. What a genuine, grade-A arsehole_

CASPIAN: Damn! Foiled again!

SUSAN: He's only run into the next room. You could always, you know… follow him.

CASPIAN: Nah, zat vould make too much sense. Let's just say your brother's plan sucked and ve should do vot I do best vhich is another RUNNER.

SUSAN: Yes, but what about Queen Prun-a-what's-her-name?

PETER: Kill her? Torture her for information? Take her hostage? Steal her baby? Use it for a bargaining chip?

CASPIAN: Zat makes too much sense too. And remember, ANDREW ADAMSON made zis bit up. Ve can't let it actually _change _the storyline, because zat vould mean ve'd be straying from C.S. Lewis's source material.

SUSAN: _pouts_

PETER: _bites lip_

MAMA TELMARINE: _stares_

CRICKETS: _chirp_

CASPIAN: Vot? _Isn't_ zis movie close to ze book or somezhing?

CRICKETS: _keep chirping_

CASPIAN: You mean ve've _already _strayed from ze source material??

PETER: _rolls eyes _Just a bit.

CASPIAN: My God. 'ow did I not know zis?

CRICKETS: _still keep chirping_

CASPIAN: I'm sick of zese rude crickets, let's leave. I know a good vay to go completely unnoticed. It's out ze front door. I did it vunce, it's a damn good trick.

PETER: Bit late for that. You totally just pucked up my plan. Now the Telmarines know we're here and we can't just continue murdering innocent people in their beds. We have to actually fight like, hand-to-hand style now.

CASPIAN: Oh, so now it's my fault? 'ow ze 'ell is it _my _fault? Susan, who's fault is it?

SUSAN: Peter's, certainly. I mean, why _wouldn't _he ruin his own plan? It's not like he wants to win or anything.

PETER: Well, I'm certainly not pulling out now. OPEN THE FRICKING GATE THING! We can win this battle here and now, even though it wasn't in the book so we obviously can't win anything. Who cares? STAY WITH ME, CAMERA!

The DRAWBRIDGE onto ANNIHILATION SQUARE and the MOTE and the OTHER BRIDGE and the TOLL GATE and the BOOM GATE and the GRATE and PORTCULLIS all open up/come down etc so that the FUGLY NARNIAN ARMY charge in with weapons flashing. For a while, the FUGLY NARNIAN ARMY look to be winning, just to waste a bit more screen time.

BIG CARPETED GOAT: Raaaargh, I'm a big carpeted goat! Don't I look convincing?

MIRAZ TELMARINE: Not really. _Kills him dead_

PETER: I'm killing _ever_ so many Telmarines! So why are their numbers not declining?

CASPIAN: I told you ve'd never vin zis! I told you it vos a lost cause! I TOLD you it vos a crap plan!

PETER: When I've finished with this bunch of Telmarine bastards, you're next, Telmarine Bastard.

PETER and the FUGLY NARNIAN ARMY are now LOSING, even though they've killed ever so many Telmarines. Turns out that was just to use up screen time after all. There are lots of SLOW-MOTION shots of DYING NARNIANS IN PAIN to make people feel sad.

SUSAN: Judging by the slow-mo's and the tragic turn in the musical score, I'd say it's time we high-tailed it out of here.

PETER: Do you really think my ego will be able to cope with that?

CASPIAN obviously decided long ago that there was no point in fighting a losing battle, and so retrieved some horses from the stable instead. He gives one to SUSAN and they gallop away.

PETER: I can't believe I'm losing! My plan was such a good one. How could the High King of Narnia be _LOSING_?

He looks around and finally sees the CARNAGE of many NARNIAN CARPETS scattered around ANNIHILATION SQUARE. Seeing sense, PETER finally calls the retreat.

PETER: Pull back before you get yourselves killed, for god's sakes! Who's retarded battle plan was this anyway?

DEAD NARNIANS: Bit late for that, methinks.

THE REST OF THE NARNIANS: _try to run away but get stuck behind the grate/gate/portcullis _Well, shit. Top battle planning, your High Kingness.

PETER: Don't blame me, blame that Telmarine Bastard you all trusted. Anyway, no time to chat. Laterz.

He does a CASPIAN-STYLE RUNNER, leaving the screaming Narnians to be senselessly slaughtered behind the grate/gate/portcullis.


	5. Chapter 5

Back at HELM'S DEEP

Back at HELM'S DEEP. LUCY runs up to what's left of the FUGLY NARNIAN ARMY.

LUCY: You look like crap.

CASPIAN: _to Peter _Yeah, she's right, you do.

EDMUND: We lost. And I lost my torch.

PETER: We did _not _lose! We retreated because Plan 1 didn't work out. We now move on to Plan 2, which is starve here in Helms Deep.

SUSAN: And who thought of Plan 2 again, Peter?

PETER: No one really, its just a logical progression of battle strategies, that's all.

LUCY: Have we lost like everyone, all the fauns?

PETER: Its okay, we only have like 5 fauns and 2 centaurs left, but they'll all be conveniently replicated by the time the Telmarine army comes.

LUCY: Just as long as we've still got a few fauns, I rather like them.

PETER: _turns to Caspian _Oh, before you go, Caspian. Just like to know how many Telmarines you managed to knock off? My good self bumped off over 80.

CASPIAN: I killed 105. Counted every single vun.

PETER: Yeah well, like I said, I bumped off _over _80. Lost count after that. Could have been hundreds more. Would have been.

The bedraggled party go and sulk and form battle strategies and whine about their lot in life. CASPIAN is approached by RUMPELSTILTSKIN, who says he has some kind of sweet battle strategy to knock off CASPIAN's race.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN: So, I have like this kind of sweet battle strategy to knock off your race.

CASPIAN: Sounds grouse.

They go to the BIG CAVE where the STONE TABLE sits. Creeping around in the shadows is a RAGGEDY WITCH that looks like a vulture and her pet WEREWOLF.

VULCHI WITCH: So I hear you need help to exterminate your own race, Princeling?

CASPIAN: Zat pretty much covers it, yeah. _looks at werewolf _Is zat Maugrim?

WEREWOLF: _sighs _People _always_ get us mixed up. No I'm not bloody Maugrim. I mean, do I _sound _like Stellen Skarsgaard?

CASPIAN: Vell, I don't know. As you can probably tell, I'm not great vith accents.

WEREWOLF: You don't say.

VULCHI WITCH: Anyway, black magic all right with you, your Princeship?

CASPIAN: Sure sure.

VULCHI WITCH: So like, I'm gonna summon the Legendary White Witch.

CASPIAN: Don't let me stop you.

VULCHI WITCH: Summoning now…

CASPIAN: Break a leg.

VULCHI WITCH: Preparing blue fire any second…

CASPIAN: Go for gold.

VULCHI WITCH: Blue fire is drawn…

CASPIAN: Keep up ze good vork.

VULCHI WITCH: I'm sorry, hold on a minute. I was lead to believe you were a good guy. You know, first-rate looks, high morals, good conscience, friends with animals, leader of Narnians, that kind of thing.

CASPIAN: Yeah… so vot's your point?

VULCHI WITCH: I'm summoning the _White Witch_ here… you know, with _sorcery_. Its some fully evil shit.

CASPIAN: Really not getting vhere you're going vith all of zis.

VULCHI WITCH: _mutters _Oh, forget it.

CASPIAN'S MORALS: _have done a RUNNER_

TILDA SWINTON herself is summoned amid an impressive ice sculpture display. She is suddenly alive and well and in all her cold, androgynous glory.

C.S. LEWIS FANS: I strangely don't recall reading this White Witch part in the book, either.

WHITE WITCH: Hello, Edmund. Long time no see. My, how you've grown. And I like what you've done with your hair.

CASPIAN: Erm… I'm not actually–

WHITE WITCH: So, drop of blood is all it takes, then we can kill loads of people together. Might even drop in a game of solitaire afterward. Or even some karaoke.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN grabs CASPIAN's hand and just about slices it off.

CASPIAN: Shit! Zat a big enough drop of blood for you, idiota?

Then he goes into some kind of morals-free trance, and his mangled hand reaches out toward the WHITE WITCH in an incredible show of movie CASPIAN's true nature. Which is Piss. Weak.

WHITE WITCH: Shit, this is easy. I swear you had more backbone in the last film. And in the book, I distinctly remember that I was never actually summoned, you'd killed my cronies before we even got to that part. Thanks for the bonus screen time. What a bonus.

PETER: MUST I DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE?? _barrels CASPIAN out of the way before his blood can touch the WHITE WITCH _Seriously, how many people's arses must I save before I get recoronated? I mean honestly -

WHITE WITCH: Ooooh Peeeeeteeeeeeer…

PETER falls under the WHITE WITCH'S spell, too. He seems to have very little backbone or character either. Funny that.

LUCY: _delivers the two-handed smackdown on RUMPELSTILTSKIN_

SUSAN: _pretty much does nothing except pout_

CASPIAN: _stares in a very vacant yet somehow attractive manner_

EDMUND: Don't tell me the two big men have finally moved over and allowed me an ounce of screen time.

He plunges SOME SHARP INSTRUMENT through the WHITE WITCH'S icy chest.

WHITE WITCH: _looks behind her _Oh, _that's_ Edmund. I should have known he'd be the backstabber. Bloody emos.

The ice SMASHES and tinkles and dissolves. The White Witch dries up and is DEAD (for now, coz if they stuck to the book, you'd realise that you can always bring witches back). EDMUND doesn't quite have enough personality to even look smug about doing the deed himself, but CASPIAN and PETER see that they've been outdone by a whiny, pasty emo and get their competitive mojos back on.

EDMUND: I suppose both of you big men had it covered, right?

PETER: Damn straight I had it covered. If it hadn't been for me, you'd all be dead right now. I had a brilliant strategy in mind. It was going to come into play any second then. Always trying to be the hero, aren't you, Ed? Always trying to push your way in, trying to take ALL the glory for yourself.

CASPIAN: I vas ze vun zat provided such an effective distraction.

PETER: Oh ho, distraction, you say, Caspian? You'll be damn-fricking-lucky if I don't clap you in the stocks for High Treason, Telmarine Bastard!

CASPIAN: _sighs _You're just jealous because I look 'andsomer in fetching candlelight.

PETER: So it's finally come to this, has it? The old 'who's better-looking debate'. Well, let me just say, it's a pity for you that I'm a such a heart-breaker fangirl favourite. What have _you _got to your credentials, virgin sissy? I don't see many 'I heart William Moseley' websites dedicated to _you_.

CASPIAN: 'OW VERY DARE YOU! Never doubt my status as a fangirl favourite! And you may zink you're all 'andsome vith your cuts and your bruises and your chainmailed chest, but I 'ave ze smouldering bedroom eyes and ze chin-dimple you can only dream of.

EDMUND: I had a chin-dimple back when I was older. Damn good-looking back then.

PETER: Chin-dimples are ludicrously overrated. It's all about the come-hither lips. And neither of you traitorous shits can beat me there.

EDMUND: I've been traitor-free for over a thousand years!

PETER: I'm sorry but it's not about you anymore, Edmund. Stand aside.

CASPIAN: I 'ave nicer man-pecks.

PETER: I have nicer-shaped cheekbones.

CASPIAN: I 'ave broader shoulders.

PETER: I have a tighter arse.

CASPIAN: I am TALLER.

PETER: Oh no you are not. _turns to Susan _Crack open the emergency tape-measure, thanks, Susan. We'll see about this taller bullshit.

LUCY: You guys do realise that there are like ten hundred thousand Telmarines coming at this very moment to besiege Helm's Deep.

SUSAN: AND we have to figure out some pretty sick battle strategies before we're totally trapped and have to end up starving and eating the fauns.

PETER: _turns to Susan _Susan, who are _you_ to work out battle strategies? Who, pray tell is the High King of Narnia again?

CASPIAN: Ve'll see who's 'igh King vhen I'm coronated.

EDMUND: Um, you actually can't ever top the HIGH King, Caspian mate. He's called 'HIGH King' for a reason.

PETER: Ten points to me! HAHAHA! Good on you Ed. Smart Boy. Try topping the HIGH King of Narnia, Telmarine Bastard!

SUSAN: Why don't you boys just get your swords out and compare lengths again? It's what you do best.

PETER: _chooses to ignore that comment and instead moves into battle-planner mode _Right, battle-planning time. Gather round, you bunch of weirdos.

This is the BIG battle strategy part, by the way. NARNIANS gather round. Gather round, can you all see me. Can you all hear me. Excellent.

CASPIAN: _yells to the general populace_ Yes, everyvun, listen in, zis is vhere High King Pedro proves himself as our savior. I can 'ardly vait for zis.

PETER: _turns around and glares at Caspian _You are treading a _very_ fine line, Telmarine Bastard. One more word out of you and I swear, Susan's going to be a very sad widow.

CASPIAN: Ok, ok. Tis fine, go on.

PETER: Right, well, since we've dug ourselves a lovely hole here in this mound of dirt, its going to be awfully funny to see how we can get out of it. In fact, its ever since pretty boy bunked you all down for the night, that we've come a cropper.

CASPIAN: Zis is ze best strategy.

PETER: _ignores Caspian and talks to the ceiling_ AND seeing as ASLAN _hates_ me and thinks that it's funny to let me do this gig all by myself, we're not going to get any help from upstairs, you know what I mean? JUST because I didn't believe Lucy when she said she saw Him in the woods. How nice is that? How _fair _is that? Payback, that's what it is. Thanks Aslan, thanks so bloody much for nothing.

LUCY: It might help if you weren't so-

PETER: And what's more, we have very little troops, thanks to Caspian yet again.

CASPIAN: 'OW VERY DARE YOU!

PETER: And even furthermore, we've run out of storyline. _The general populace gasps and murmurs in shock _I know, I know, it came as a surprise to me too. We've been going along so well up until this point. Damn shame. So anyway, we'll have to make it up as we go until the battle. We're on our own til then.

CASPIAN: Shouldn't be too 'ard.

PETER: Excuse me?

CASPIAN: Vell, you told me yourself ve 'aven't been sticking to ze book zhus far. What's a leetle bit more bullshit going to matter?

PETER: I'll give you bullshit! This is _MY _movie, Telmarine Bastard, I'd appreciate some respect!

CASPIAN: Vot's it called again?

PETER: _Excuse me_?

CASPIAN: I said vot's it called again. Zis movie. Vot's the name of it?

PETER: …

CRICKETS: _are chirping_

CASPIAN: _is smirking_

EVERYONE ELSE: _is smirking too_

PETER: _Anyway, _moving on to more important things, time for Lucy and Susan to go into the woods. No idea why. But it will provide this retarded movie with another few minutes of sorely-needed action-scenes. God knows we need them. AWAY, HORSE!


End file.
